Cookies, Anyone?
by catlover5040
Summary: In 1990, a very smart and very determined little girl tries to sell Carlton Lassiter some Girl Scout cookies.


**Disclaimer: If you haven't figured out by now that I don't own _Psych, _I reserve the right to laugh at you.**

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**February 28th, 1990**

_An eight-year-old hopped out of the car and ran up to the front door of the next house, brown uniform dress and all. "I'll be fine, Mom, just wait here!" she shouted, knocking on the door._

_It opened. There was a young man standing there, perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two years old, with black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was a law student, the little girl decided. No, a cop. He was definitely a cop._

"_Yes?" he growled. _

"_Hello," she said cheerfully. "I'm with Girl Scout Troop #1912, and I was wondering if you would like to buy some cookies."_

* * *

**March 1st, 1990**

Henry Spencer was sitting at his desk in the Santa Barbara Police Department, reading a case file, when a conversation between a bunch of the rookies caught his attention. He glanced over at the young officers. There was that Lucinda Barry, a couple others whose names he didn't know, and then that young man who was always with Barry... What was his name? Something with an "L". Lazenby? Langston? Lancaster? Maybe it was Lassie, like the dog. No, he was pretty sure that wasn't it.

Lassiter, that's what it was. Lassiter appeared to be the center of attention, telling the other officers something. Not sure why on earth he wanted to hear, he started doing something he had taught his son Shawn(and that Shawn was altogether too good at) to do- eavesdropping.

"So yesterday, I'm in my apartment, right?" he was saying. "Polishing my gun and generally minding my own business."

"Polishing your gun?" one of the other officers asked.

"Yeah, that's what I do on weekends," Lassiter said, sounding surprised. "Don't you?"

There was a general murmur of dissent. Lassiter rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I open the door, and there's this little blonde girl in a Girl Scout uniform. I ask her what she wants and then she tries to sell me some cookies. Then I realize I'm still holding my gun, and I try to hide it because I'm pretty sure it'll freak her out. But she already noticed it, but she doesn't scream or anything- she just asks if it's a Glock 17, which of course it is.

"Once I put the gun away, she tries to sell me some cookies again, saying they're only two dollars a box. I tell her 'No, thank you', because I have better things to do with my life than take ten minutes buying cookies, and I close the door. I barely get back to polishing my gun when there's another knock. I open it again, same girl. She acts like she hadn't just knocked on my door and does her whole speech about 'I'm from Troop #100,000,000' or whatever it was and tries to sell me some cookies again. I say no and close the door.

"And then she knocks _again! _By that point, I've realized that I'm dealing with a little girl who isn't gonna give up easily. This time, she says if I don't want to pay two dollars for a box of cookies, I can just give her my Glock instead." There was a great shout of laughter from the other officers. "I tell her 'No way' and try to close the door again, but she stops me. Then she says that if I don't want to buy any cookies, I can just buy boxes to support the Girl Scouts and the cookies will be donated to an organization. I'm really annoyed by this point, so I tell her to get lost, but she sticks her foot in the door and says that if I don't buy at least _one _box, she's going to scream.

"So, I pretty much have no choice except to buy a box. Then she gets all happy as I'm writing down my name and everything, and acts as if she hadn't just been starting World War III. As I'm writing down everything, I ask her what organization the cookies are being donated to, and she says in a very animated voice, 'All proceeds go to the Santa Barbara Police Department' and then she takes the form and skips off."

All the officers laughed. Henry Spencer smirked. That was one little girl who was going to find a good place in life. Maybe she would be a cop herself.

"Did she happen to mention her name?" Officer Barry asked. "My sister's a troop leader, and there aren't a ton of Girl Scouts around here, so she might know her."

"Now that you mention it, she _did," _Lassiter said, snapping his fingers. "Julia, I think. No, Juliet. Juliet O'Hara."

* * *

**February 28th, 2013**

Twenty-three years later, Carlton Lassiter was sitting at his desk in the Santa Barbara Police Department, reading a case file, when someone came over and sat on his desk.

"What do you want, O'Hara?" he asked without looking up.

"My first cousin once removed, Madeline, is twelve and she's selling Girl Scout cookies. I told her I'd take orders from people here at the department, and _you're _going to buy some," she said.

"Am I, now?" he muttered, still not looking up.

"Yes, you are," she said decisively. "I already wrote your order down, so you have no choice. All I need is for you to sign your name _here." _She pointed to a spot on the form.

"Let me guess," he said, looking up at her and folding his arms. "Even though _you _wrote the order without my consent, _I _still have to pay for it."

"Exactly," she said happily, as if she was glad he had caught on so quickly. "I ordered five boxes, so that's twenty dollars."

"O'Hara, I'm not signing some form that'll make me pay twenty dollars," he said.

"Yes, you are," she said again, dropping the cookie form down on top of the file he was reading. "_Now." _

He groaned. It seemed as if he really didn't have a choice. He got out a pen and signed his name. "There," he said savagely, thrusting the form into her hands. "Happy?"

"Very," she beamed. As she turned to leave, Lassiter thought of something.

"O'Hara, were you a Girl Scout growing up?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah, why?" she asked with a teasing smile. "Were you?"

"No," he said, smiling in spite of himself. "I just... remembered something."

There was a short-lived silence. Then Juliet grinned at him.

"I won't ever forget your reaction when I asked for your Glock," she said. "Or when I threatened to scream."

"So that _was _you?" Lassiter asked incredulously. "What are-"

"-the odds of that?" she finished. "Yeah, I know. Pretty strange, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, leaning back, and after another short silence, "How on earth did you remember that? That was over twenty years ago. And when did you realize it was me?"

"Seven years ago when I first met you," she said. "And I'm not sure how I remembered. I just... did."

"Well, how did you know it was me?" he asked, not sure why this matter was so important to him.

"I have never seen blue eyes like yours anywhere else in my life," she said simply. She smiled again, stood up, and checked her watch. "See you tomorrow."

"Where are you going?" he asked. "You don't normally leave this early." She opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off with a groan. "Right. Your date with Spencer."

She giggled, and then leaned forward and hugged him. "Have a good day, Carlton."

And then she skipped off just as happily as she had twenty-three years ago.

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**A/N: So, what did you think? I sorta wrote this on a whim, and because it's GS cookie season. Read and review!**


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